


Johnny & Lola

by LadyFogg



Series: Angel with a Shotgun [2]
Category: Constantine (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Character, Dirty Talk, Drinking, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Language, Light Bondage, NSFW, Oral Sex, Pansexual Character, Reader Insert, Sex, Smoking, Smut, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:00:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4436426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFogg/pseuds/LadyFogg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After taking a break from hunting, you hear reports of passengers going missing on a large cruise-liner and you decide to investigate. Apparently you’re not the only one. When you and John realize you’re on the same case, you take on the identities of Johnny & Lola, newlyweds on their honeymoon. Undercover, you work to figure out what’s causing these strange disappearances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fic Song: https://play.spotify.com/track/77GdH3uQqokJlbCnq9mVlS

After five years of hunting, you find it hard to take a break.

The whole situation with Nyla nearly broke you two years ago. It took a lot of drinking and spilling a lot of demon blood before you began to finally move on. But once you removed yourself from your old life, once you started focusing on yourself and forgetting about Nyla, things got better. You still think about what happened of course. At least once a month you have nightmares about it. Her laughing sadistically as she reaches into your chest and yanks out your heart with her clawed hand.  

But you think about John Constantine more times than you think about your demon ex-girlfriend.

You dream about him a lot too. Sometimes it’s vivid, colorful dreams that make you think he’s actually there with you. You two sit outside or in whatever hotel room you’re staying in, just chatting about random things. Other times it’s just the sight of him in the distance, or movement out of the corner of your eye. On more than one occasion it’s both of you back in that tub, or the room you stayed in while you spent time together. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t dream about him showing up at your door.

Sometimes dreams about him chase away the nightmares. You’ll be there in that warehouse with Nyla. And then you’re at the safehouse, John right there with you, the smell of cigarettes and whisky so strong you swear you wake up still smelling it.

You haven’t given up hunting completely. You don’t think you could even if you wanted to. Every now and then, when you know there’s a demon or monster in the vicinity, you give into the urge and handle the situation.

But it’s been nearly five months since your last encounter, and you are starting to get that itch again. So when you see several news reports about passengers mysteriously going missing on a caribbean cruise-liner, you think it’s time to investigate. At the very least you get to go on a cruise with tons of food, booze and pool time. It’s a sweet deal on your part. And you have a good amount of money saved up after that last credit card scam you ran.

Which is why you find yourself dressed in shorts, flip flops and a tank top as you roll your suitcase down the long corridor towards your room. You sprung for a suite, because why the fuck not? You have a nice view of the ocean and you’re more towards the middle of the boat so you won’t feel the rocking as much.

You push your sunglasses onto the top of your head before unlocking the door to your room. You slip inside and place the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the handle before letting the door slam shut behind you. The furnishings are nice, but not overly lavish. A comfortable king-sized bed, a nice dresser, flat-screen TV and a decent size bathroom. There’s a round table and two chairs in front of the window and you can’t wait to eat breakfast there.

Your suitcase is large, but you’ve been working out and you’re able to lift it onto your bed without straining yourself. You unpack your clothes, but keep your weapons and hunting supplies tucked away. It’s amazing what you can bring on board with a few concealment charms. You do select a few choice weapons and stash them around the room just in case. Can’t be too careful.

You change out of your traveling clothes and into a bathing suit. As you’re pulling on a pair of fresh shorts over your bikini bottoms, you hear the roar of the engines in the distance. You pause to stare out the window. You can see that you’re starting to leave the dock and you smile to yourself. You walk over to the window and open it as much as it allows, inhaling the fresh sea air. Hopefully you can figure out what’s wrong quickly and take care of it so you can enjoy the trip. Otherwise it’s going to be a long three weeks.

You hear a commotion outside your door and immediately reach for the knife in your nightstand. Guns are harder to carry around on a boat, so you went with lighter weapons this time. You go to the door and carefully peek out, but all you see are security guards hurrying past your door. You frown and tuck your knife into the pocket of your shorts before you follow them.

It turns out to be nothing. Just a disturbance at the end of the hallway that is already taken care of by the time you get there.

Oh well. Might as well take a lap around the boat to get a good idea of the layout.

It takes you a few hours to explore every inch of the liner. At least all the places guests are allowed. It’s a lot bigger than you thought it would be. It’s a few floors with a myriad of entertainment from a small casino to a large spa. You’re drawn to the bar after your preliminary inspection. You order yourself a drink, one of those stereotypical fruity ones with a straw and umbrella. You’re not really in the mood for any hard liquor at the moment.

As the bartender gets your order for you, you scan the pool deck. Nothing is really out of the ordinary. There are several families, a few elderly folks, but mostly it’s young couples. You make sure to take stock of where security guards are stationed and where all the exits are. The bartender places your drink on the counter and you slide him a tip. Drink in hand, you wander over to the pool.

While you know you should do some more recon, the sun is too nice and your drink is too tasty, so you pick an empty chair and stretch yourself out. You slide your sunglasses down over your eyes and close them, soaking in the sun.

You’re there for barely twenty minutes when you hear yelling.

“Hey! You! STOP!”

The sound of two people running past you is enough to make you frown. You want to look, but you don’t want to seem obvious, so you strain your ears to listen better. You hear the footsteps come to a stop a few feet paces from your chair.

“What’s the problem now, mate?”

At that voice, your eyes fly open and you push your sunglasses back onto your head. You sit up and crane your neck around to see who just spoke. No fucking way!

Two security guards stand with an obviously annoyed John Constantine. He looks the same. Blond hair, black pants, white shirt and loose tie (which you honestly don’t know how he’s standing it because it’s fucking humid out). The only things missing are his trenchcoat and a cigarette. But knowing him, they’re stashed somewhere nearby.

 _Are you shitting me?!_ you think to yourself with disbelief. He looks so out of place you have to blink several times to make sure it’s really him.

“Sir, the problem is that we have repeatedly asked you if you are traveling alone or with someone and you have yet to provide an answer,” one guard says, a short, wide man with a bad sunburn.

“And then you ran,” the second guard adds. He’s taller than the first, but not by much.

“I’m trying to find my wife,” John lies.

“Oh is that so?” the first guard asks. “What room number are you staying in?”

John rolls his eyes. “I don’t remember,” he says. “Look, mate, I just got on board. I haven’t memorized the bloody number yet. But I’m sure my wife’s around here somewhere.” He makes a huge show of scanning the deck.

He hasn’t seen you yet. You’re hidden just enough by the chair and the guards where you can see his face, but he can’t see yours. You’re tempted to just keep watching and let him find his way out of this mess himself, only because you’re curious as to how he’ll manage. But you can guess why he’s here and if he’s hunting the same thing you are, he might have more information than you do on the situation. So you might as well make his job easier.

What can you say? You’ve grown soft in your time apart.

You sigh heavily and put your drink down briefly so you can move one of your rings from your right hand to your left ring finger. You make sure your bikini top is properly showing the bits you want it to before you grab your drink again and get out of your seat. You square your shoulders, puff out your tits and strut towards the three men.

“Baby! There you are!” you say with a charming smile as you get closer to the men. They all turn to look at you and John’s face splits into the widest smile you think you’ve ever seen on him. You wonder what you must look like. Bikini top, shorts, exposed tattooed skin…

You know you have the desired effect when the guards swallow thickly. Excellent.

Careful not to spill your drink, you walk up to John and fling your arms around his neck, planting a large kiss right on his lips. His arms immediately come around your waist and he crushes you to his chest. God he tastes as good as you remember. There’s no hint of whisky this time and the nicotine is faint, but man does he taste wonderful. You can feel the guards shift uncomfortably as John kisses you back (with a bit more tongue than is necessary for the situation).

“Ehem, excuse me, ma’am,” the short guard says after clearing his throat. “You know this man?”

You draw away from the kiss and give John a raised eyebrow before turning back to the guards. “Yes, this is my husband,” you say. You take a sip from your drink in your left hand so they can see the ring on your finger. “Johnny and I just got married! Baby, where did you go? I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You forgot your room key. ”

“Oh, you know me, love,” John says. One arm is still around your waist and he pulls you close to his side. “Just scheduling us a couples massage for tomorrow, like you asked. Loves to be pampered this one does.”

“Sir, why did you run earlier when we tried to talk to you?” the taller guard asks.

“I…” John begins, but you cut him off.

“Johnny tends to get a little sea sick,” you say, before John can get his answer out. You lean towards the guards and add in a loud whisper. “He probably was trying to get to a railing.” You raise your eyebrows pointedly.

The guards look like they don’t believe you, but they nod with understanding nonetheless.

John looks a little like he might want to kill you for that bit, but he just forces a smile. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he says. “Weak stomach.”

“It’s true,” you say nodding. “He gets motion sickness very easily.”

“Not all motion bothers me though,” he says flirtatiously and you bite back a laugh.

The guards are now looking more apprehensive than suspicious. Like they feel like you might be lying but aren’t so sure. It’s clear from your stance and comfort with each other that you two are acquainted. You prepare yourself for more interrogation and hope you’ve sold it enough to not warrant more questioning for the moment.

Eventually the short guard nods towards John’s hand around your shoulders. “Nice wedding ring,” he says. “Reminds me of mine.”

You didn’t even notice John was wearing a ring. You swore he wasn’t before. It definitely would have been something to catch your attention. John flexes his hand so you can see the ring out of the corner of your eye.

“Thank you, we picked it out together,” he says, pressing his cheek against yours. You both give the guards the cheesiest grins you can manage. It’s taking all your willpower not to crack up at the absurdity of the situation.

Because you can’t help yourself and just have to mess with him, you add. “Though, my engagement ring still needs to be ordered.” You give John a pointed look. If he could smack you, he probably would. You can practically see him wondering why you’re dragging this out and not ending his misery. He forces another cheesy smile.

“It’s already done,” he coos. “Come now, love. I’m sure these fine gentlemen have very important work to get to.”

“Whatever you say, Johnny,” you say back, placing your drink on the nearby bar. After you reach up to link your fingers with the hand on your shoulder.

By now the guards look relieved they don’t have to talk to you two anymore. “Have a great time,” the taller guard says. He looks embarrassed for himself and his partner interrogating John. Good, they totally bought it.

You and John offer them polite nods before turning in the direction of the elevators.

Just as you walk away, you hear the short guard swear. “Shit, I lost my wedding ring again.”

You look up at John and he flashes you a smirk. So that’s where the ring came from. Sly bastard. “Well done, genius,” you say to him in a low voice once you're far enough away from the guards. “Barely hours out of port and you’re already blowing your cover. I thought you were supposed to be good at this.”

“You start sassing me already I’ll give you something to blow,” John mutters back to you, hand slipping from your shoulder to cup your ass. Whether it’s for show or just for the hell of it, you’re not sure. Either way you elbow him in the rib.

“Keep it in your pants, Blondie, there are kids around,” you scold.

He glances at you with a smile and a chuckle. “You look good.”

“You look good too, John,” you say. “Where’s your stuff? I take it you don’t have a room.”

“Nope,” John says. “But that’s alright, I’ll just bunk with my wife.” He gives you a cheeky smirk. “Stashed my stuff before they started questioning me. We’ll have to stop and grab it before heading back to the room.”

“I’m assuming you’re here to investigate the disappearances?” you ask.

You make a move toward an elevator, but he takes you by the elbow and leads you to the one at the very end. He pushes the button for your floor. “Thought I’d get away for a few days,” he says. “Figured this was good a place as any for work and a bit of rest.”

For some reason you think he’s completely full of shit. Out of all the disappearances in the world and all the weird events happening, he just decides to come on the cruise where you are? That sounds ridiculous.

“I thought so too,” you say. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you knew I was here.”

“What gave you that impression, love?” John asks. The door to the elevator opens and you step inside just as several other people step out. When it looks like people are going to follow you in, John draws you close to him again and stares them down, as if daring them to. You can see the people get a little uncomfortable and move to another elevator. You allow yourself an eyeroll this time and press the button for your floor. The door eventually closes and you’re finally alone.

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” you tell him as the elevator begins to move. You press the emergency stop button and it jerks to a halt.

“Mmm, I see, can’t even wait until we get back to the room?” John asks, a hungry glint in his eyes as he leans in for a kiss.

You raise your hand to point a threatening finger at him, and he flinches away when you do. “John Constantine, did you track me down here?”

“For a second there I thought you were going to punch me in the face like last time,” John admits.

“I still might. Answer the question.”

John chuckles and moves to the other side of the elevator, looking up at the paneled ceiling. You watch as he uses the railing as leverage to hoist himself up. “Alright, so I may have sort of been keeping tabs on you since you left,” he says, carefully pushing one of the panels up and moving it to the side. As you watch, he pulls out his brown bag and drops it on the floor.  

“How?” you ask. “I didn’t get these tattoos for nothing. I’m invisible to most forms of scrying and detection. I mean, I know you’re a Master of the Dark Arts--”

“I will never be rid of that title,” John mutters to himself. He puts the panel back in place and hops down. “You are protected well, don’t worry your pretty little head about that. But your dreams on the other hand aren’t.” He scoops his bag off the floor. “So, every now and then, I took a little trip to see what you were up to.”

“I knew it!” you exclaim. “Okay, maybe I didn’t ‘know’ it. But I figured this wasn’t just some weird twist of fate.”

“Who knows, love? Maybe it is?” John teases.

You shake your head at him. “I’d be angry if I wasn’t happy to see you,” you scowl, jamming your finger on the control panel and making the elevator start again.

“I’ll say,” John purrs, stepping in close to place his hand on your lower back. “That was some kiss back there.”

His touch, his low voice...it’s enough to make your body shudder. But you still nudge him playfully away. “You were the one who shoved your tongue down my throat,” you point out.

“You were the one who had a sex dream about me last week,” John says bluntly.

You’re not embarrassed in the slightest that he knows about that. As soon as he said he visited your dreams, the thought crossed your mind. I mean, you have been dreaming about him a lot. He is the only person you’ve had sex with since Nyla. Sure you’ve made out with a few people from time to time, but the whole experience with your ex-girlfriend the Succubus really put a damper on your love life. You just weren’t ready for that kind of thing, and you don’t know if you ever would be.

“I did,” you admit with a smile. “Too bad you didn’t hop in while you were watching. Would have made things more interesting.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

The elevator comes to a stop at your floor and John follows you out. You can feel his eyes on you as you lead him down the hall. You add a little sway to your hips and you glance behind you to see his eyes practically glued to your ass. “Enjoying the view?” you ask, echoing his words from your first meeting in the alley. God it seems like ages ago when you think back on that night.

“Very much so.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you say shaking your head at him again. As you come up to your door, you take your key out of your back pocket and pass it across the lock.

“Oh I think we’re both well aware of that,” John says.

“Arrogant asshole.”

“You love it.”

You open the door and usher him in. Once inside, he throws his bag on the bed and moves to open it, while you make sure the door is locked and dump your knife on the nightstand. John draws his trenchcoat out and tosses it onto the bed. Next, he pulls a package of cigarettes out of the bag and pops one into his mouth. After lighting it, he takes a long drag and you can see him visibly relax. He drops the package of cigarettes onto the nightstand next to your knife.

“Alright,” you say, picking up his trenchcoat and moving to drape it over the dresser so it’s not on the bed anymore. John takes his bag and drops it on the floor before he kicks off his shoes and practically hops on top of the bed. When you turn around, he’s laying on his side, watching you, cigarette dangling from his lips. “So we should probably work on our cover story.”

“Ah yes, Johnny and Lola,” John says with a smirk. “Newly wed, frisky married couple. Thanks for that by the way.”

You don’t tell him you haven’t gone by Lola in a very long time. In truth, you like the way he says it and it’s better than going by your real name. As far as you’re aware he still doesn’t know it. So you are Lola once again.

You grin as you grab the ashtray from the dresser and toss it to him. He catches it easily and places it in front of him.

“Hey, you set it up, I just went with it. It was easy really,” you say, stepping out of your own flip flops and climbing up onto the bed.

“Eager to be married to me are you?” John asks, waggling his eyebrows.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you scoff, laying on your side to face him. “It was any easy cover to go with. Besides you were the one that came up with being married! And now that I know that you  knew I was here, I think you are the one who is eager to be married to me.”

John chuckles and hands you the cigarette, which you graciously pop into your mouth. “So, we’re just married, from a small town near Liverpool,” he says. “We met while you were traveling.”

“Backpacking after college,” you say. “I have a thing for older men, see.”

“Oy, watch it,” John says.

“We’ve been together two years, traveling all over the place and thought it was time to do something crazy,” you continue the story.

“We have to agree to just go with whatever the other one says,” John tells you. “If they ask us a question about our relationship, just go along with whatever comes to mind. And ask me before you go tell people I have stomach problems, alright?”

You laugh. “The look on your face was worth it though,” you admit. “I’ve missed you.”

John smiles back at you. “Missed you too, love,” he says, reaching into his pocket for a new cigarette as you finish off his original. He pops the stick in his mouth and picks up the lighter from where he dropped it on the bed earlier. “Anyway, back to business. Have you noticed anything off about this place so far?”

“Not really,” you say, exhaling smoke out of the corner of your mouth. “I only managed to take a quick tour. Why, have you?”

“I have a few hunches,” he says. “First I thought sirens, but no one has reported any odd singing, and those that disappear would have left their belongings behind.”

“True,” you agree. Your sunglasses start to slip off the top of your head, so you pluck them off and toss them on the nightstand.

John rolls onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. You study his face carefully. He has a far few more wrinkles than the last time you saw him. He looks weary and as you watch, he rubs the sleep from his droopy eyes. “Then I thought, maybe some sort of sea monster,” he continues, oblivious to your scrutiny. “But no one has reported slime or claw marks or anything like that.”

“Yeah, the reports say they boarded, but disappeared before the first stop,” you say.

John takes a drag of his cigarette and nods as he exhales. “Which gives us about two days to try to stop someone else from disappearing,” he says. He turns his head to smirk at you. “You think you can manage to be Mrs. John Constantine for that long?”

“I’m actually booked for this cruise the whole three weeks,” you tell him. “And since you’re supposed to be my husband, I guess you’re stuck here too.”

John’s smile fades. “Sorry, love,” he says. “Once this thing is solved, I’m off.”

“Why?” you ask, extinguishing your cigarette butt in the ashtray. “Don’t you deserve a break?”

“When you’re on a mission to rid the world of darkness while trying to save your condemned soul, there’s very little time for rest and relaxation,” he says bitterly, turning back to stare up at the ceiling. You don’t like that haunted look on his face. The last time you two were together you saw it nearly every day. You were too wrapped up in your own shit to worry, but now you’re in a better head space and you are determined to make him have some sort of fun on this trip.

You move to sit up and slide yourself across his lap until you’re straddling his waist. His arms are behind his head and he looks up at you with a raised eyebrow. You take the cigarette from his lips and extinguish it in the ashtray like you had done with yours.

“How many years has it been since Newcastle?” you ask.

His eyes grow dark at the mention of that wretched place. You don’t know the details of what happened. He wouldn’t tell you. But you knew terrible things went down and he will forever be haunted by it. “Not enough,” he says in a flat tone. Clearly that was the last thing he wants to talk about right now. You don’t blame him so you try another approach.  

“Alright, then how long has it been since you started this mission?” you ask.

“Nearly four years now,” John answers.

“Four years of fighting demons, monsters, even people non-stop,” you say. You loosen his tie the rest of the way and work the first few buttons of his shirt free. His jaw is clenched but his lips turn up into a small smile as you move down to nip playfully at his newly exposed collarbone. “You can take a few weeks to recharge.”

“You are worse than any desire demon, you are,” he purrs, hands moving to grip the back of your thighs. He brings you flush against him so you can feel the bulge in his trousers. “I may even be tempted to say yes.”

“Do it,” you encourage, grinding down against him. You bring your face down towards his, letting your lips brush across his teasingly. “Unlimited booze, buffets every night, massages…” you punctuate each word with a softest peck you can manage. Each time he tries to lift his head to kiss you fully, you draw away so he can’t. You slide one hand into his hair and yank his head back, giving him a harsh bite just below his ear. He shudders under you. “...me.”

“Bloody hell, woman,” he swears, sounding breathless. “You sure know how to make a compelling argument.”

You pull away completely and smile down at him. “So you’ll stay?” you ask excitedly.

John closes his eyes briefly and makes a noise of annoyance. He looks up at you with a face that says he clearly doesn’t not appreciate how well you can play him. “Maybe,” he finally answers. He points a stern finger at you. “But we figure this out first. Then we’ll see where things are at. No promises.”

“Good enough,” you say.

“Come ‘er,” John growls, hands sliding up your back as he pulls you towards him. This time you let him.

His kiss is insistent and hot, his mouth attacking yours just as viciously as two years ago. Maybe even more so. The way he’s clutching you makes you believe you weren’t the only one thinking about your time together over your time apart. Did he dream about you too? Only one way to find out.

“So,” you say breathlessly as you break the kiss to drag your teeth along his stubbled jaw. “Did you dream about me while I was away?”

“More often than I care to admit out loud,” John says. His voice is hoarse and low and his hands busy themselves with the clasp of your bikini top. “Knowing you were dreaming about me didn’t help, mind you.”

“Were all those dreams mine?” you ask, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye. “Or did you have something to do with that too?”

“That was all you, love,” he assures you. “Though sometimes I did indulge a little. May have taken my dream self’s place a couple of times.”

You pause your writhing against him to reflect on his words. “What does it say about me that I don’t find that the least bit creepy and think it’s incredibly hot?” you ask yourself out loud.

“It means you want my cock inside you in any dimension,” John says. He thrusts up against you again, trying to get you to keep moving. “And after years of dream fucking, I’d like to experience the real thing again, if you would be so inclined.”

“Is this...are you _begging_ me, John Constantine?” you ask with surprise.

Suddenly he grips your waist and rolls you onto your back so that he’s looming over you. He practically rips away your undone bikini top and reaches out to run his hands roughly over your tits. “I was going for demanding,” he says gruffly.

It’s your turn to arch up into him and his eyes are so dark with lust they almost look black. “I don’t know,” you say teasingly. “Last time we just did it the once and that was that. If we follow the same pattern, I may want to save it.”

“You’re a bloody cocktease you are,” John scolds. He bends down to kiss you again. You swipe your tongue along his and he moans into your mouth. When he draws back, he mumbles. “What if I can guarantee it won’t just be the once?”

You rest your forehead against his and you both breathe each other in for a second. “Wouldn’t that be a dangerous thing to do?” you ask.

“Very dangerous,” John agrees with a grin. He gives you another quick but harsh kiss.

“Disastrous,” you pant when he pulls back.

“Stupid.”

“Masochistic.”

“But would you regret it?” John asks, with his eyebrows raised.

“Not a chance.”

“Good.”

This time you meet his kiss and bury one hand in his hair, while the other clutches his shirt desperately. He rocks into you again, hands traveling down your sides before they find their way to the button of your shorts. He undoes it swiftly and pulls away so he can drag the garment off your legs. You sit up and take a second to move the ashtray and his lighter onto the nightstand as he moves to get rid of his shirt.

When you turn back towards him however, you pause. He has new scars. Some of them so fresh the skin is barely healed.

“John--”

“Don’t.”

“But--”

“Lola…”

He looks angry that you would even think to point them out. Clearly he doesn’t want to talk about how he got them. You wrap your arms around him and give him an apologetic kiss. He’s still against your actions, not moving or trying to reciprocate. Crap. You ruined the mood.

However, you’re nothing if not persistent and you nip his bottom lip before running your hands down his back, dragging your nails across his skin, which you know he likes. That spurs him on. He practically melts into you, moving his lips against yours again. His hands come to rest on your waist and you draw back from the kiss.

“I’m sorry,” you say, resting your forehead against his.

He shakes his head. “No, no, it’s alright,” he says. He smirks. “You worried about me, Lola?”

You smirk back. “Am I not allowed to be?”

He rests his head against your shoulder and you let him collect himself. You can practically feel the weariness coming off him in waves and you wonder when was the last time he had a good night’s sleep. It’s barely past midday. You have plenty of hours of sunlight left, and you doubt anything bad will happen in broad daylight.

“You look tired,” you eventually say. “Why don’t you get some sleep? Fooling around can wait until later.”

He must be more tired than you think because he doesn’t argue. You draw back the blanket and let him crawl under. As you move to get off the bed, he grabs your wrist. “Where are you going?”

“I’m just going to sit over here, go through my case notes,” you tell him, nodding towards the table and chairs by the window.

“Okay, good,” he mumbles, letting his hand slide from yours. “We should stick together. Don’t go sneaking off without me. We can’t help these people if we both disappear.”

“Agreed, so long as you don’t ditch me,” you say. “Like when we were trailing one of the Succubi. I honestly didn’t even know the bar’s bathroom had a window.”

John laughs sleepily. “We had some good times didn’t we, love?”

You wouldn’t consider finding out your dead girlfriend was a Succubus “good times” but before that point, killing her minions with John had been the highlight of your time as a hunter. “Get some sleep, John. You’re no good to anyone exhausted,” you tell him.

You change out of your bathing suit bottoms and into a fresh pair of panties before grabbing his shirt from the floor and sliding it on. John watches you with a sleepy expression and lazy smile, before his eyes slowly drift close.

You settle yourself at the table with your tablet, the ashtray and the package of cigarettes. You light one and suck on it thoughtfully as you watch John shuffle a little on the bed. Eventually he stills and you can see his chest rising and falling steadily. The wrinkle across his forehead gradually goes away the deeper he falls into sleep. You take the moment to study him. Now that you’re looking more closely, you notice a few wisps of grey hair among the blond where his natural hair color should be growing in, and his frown lines have gotten deeper over the past two years.

If he isn’t careful, he’s going to send himself to hell a lot sooner than he would like.

You sigh to yourself as you exhale smoke and pick up your tablet. Job first, help John Constantine relax second.


	2. Chapter 2

You let John sleep for several hours. He clearly needs it.

While he sleeps, you go over your notes on the case. But it’s the same as before. Nothing unusual or out of place. They were on the boat one day and gone the next. No one reported any strange noises, smells or sights. You do notice that the victims were all couples, married couples at that. Which leads you to believe that John may be setting you two up to be targets. You’ll scold him for that later.

Eventually you get bored of your notes and decide to take a small nap yourself. You crawl into bed beside John and pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow.

When you drag your eyes open, about an hour has passed and John is still fast asleep beside you. He’s on his stomach with his face buried in the pillow, hair in disarray as he snores softly. One arm is pinned under him, but his other one is thrown across your waist. You allow yourself to smile as you lay there for a few moments. There’s no doubt he cares for you, though at this point you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. He was very clear about what happens to people he cares about.

Your stomach growls and you realize you haven’t eaten anything all day. You’re beyond hungry, and you and John will probably have to make an appearance soon as Johnny and Lola. So, you decide to take a cool shower to freshen up. You reluctantly ease yourself out from under his arm, but he doesn’t wake.

You’re not in the shower very long when you hear the bathroom door open and close. The smell of smoke reaches your nostrils and you hear the toilet seat go up. You roll your eyes at John’s lack of modesty. You hear him relieve himself and then the toilet flush. The faucet is turned on briefly as he washes his hands, before you hear his footsteps move towards the shower.

He steps in behind you and you turn around greet him. His hair is tousled and he’s sleepy eyed.

“Hey there, sunshine,” you say.

He doesn’t say anything. He just shuffles forward and wraps his arms around you. He’s so hot against your cold wet body it’s a little unsettling. Goosebumps rise across your skin. He nuzzles your neck, pushing against you until your back touches the tile. His body is flush along yours by this point and he’s standing under the spray of the shower now. His warm mouth trails kisses and nips across the flesh of your neck and you wrap your arms around him.

You want to say something, anything really, but you don’t. Last time you did you sort of ruined the mood, so you keep your words to yourself. For now. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s been around someone he knows, more importantly someone he knows who hasn’t tried to kill him or doesn’t hate his guts.

You let him run his hands down your sides and his mouth moves up to capture yours in a kiss. His mouth is a little dry from sleep and cigarettes, but that changes pretty quickly as he runs his tongue along yours. Apparently now that he’s slept he’s ready to pick things up where you left them off before and you’re more than happy to oblige. You feel his cock stir against your thigh and you reach down to wrap your fingers around his stiffening length. He hums with approval, tongue continuing to pet yours leisurely as if he has all the time in the world.

You start to stroke him, slowly at first, trying to keep the pace he’s set with his kisses. One of his hands comes up to rest on the wall next to you, while the other reaches up to cup your cheek. An idea strikes you and you pull back from the kiss, trying to catch your breath. His eyes are hazy and his smile is lopsided, but when you drop to your knees, his expression takes on a very different appearance. His pupils dilate almost immediately and that lopsided smile turns into a full blown smirk.

The hand that was on your cheek drops to your hair and he gently pushes your head forward. You’re still stroking him, but you pause just enough for him to look down at you curiously. When he makes eye contact, you wrap your lips around the head of his cock ever so lightly and he makes a noise in the back of his throat. He gives his hips a small, experimental roll forward and you let him slide further into your mouth.

“Bloody hell, what a sight you make right now, love,” he growls, voice still thick from sleep. Or maybe it’s because of arousal. You draw your head back, letting your tongue slide along the underside of his cock. When he pushes his hips forward again, you follow through with the motion, sucking softly. That drags a groan out of him and his hand tightens in your hair.

He stops trying to take control and allows you to set the pace as you move your mouth along his cock. What you can’t fit in your mouth you stroke with your hand. He swears when you quicken the pace and you glance up to see him resting his forehead against his arm as he uses the wall for support. He begins to move his hips again, this time matching your rhythm instead of creating his own.

When his grip tightens, you know he’s close and you speed up your movements. He tugs on your hair to warn you, but you don’t slow down. You double your efforts and he swears loudly as the head of his cock bumps the back of your throat. He digs his nails into your scalp and then he’s coming down your throat.

You wait until he’s nearly slumped forward before you let him slip from your mouth. You maneuver yourself from under him and stand to rinse your mouth out under the spray of the shower. When you glance over your shoulder at him, John is resting his back against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

“Are you alright there?” you ask smirking.

“Oh I’m more than alright,” he grins back. “I should always get in the shower with you. Pleasant things tend to happen when I do.”

You chuckle. “Feeling better I see,” you say.

He grabs the bar of soap and joins you under the water. “I am,” he agrees, passing the bar across his body. “So what’s the plan?”

“I say we go to dinner as Johnny and Lola, try to see if we can get any information,” you tell him. “I doubt any of the passengers will know much. But it's our best bet. After dinner we can walk the boat again.”

“Good idea,” John agrees, putting the soap back down so he can rinse himself off. “I want to take a look at one of the rooms of those who went missing.”

“We should also try and figure out where most people spend their evenings,” you say. “There has to be a way these people were chosen.”

“This whole thing is weird, even by our standards,” John says. “I’m not sure anything demonic is at play.”

“Why do you say that?” you asks curiously.

“There’s no evidence. Demons always leave a trace,” John says. “I did my own spells when I got on board to see what I could find, but so far, I haven’t found any evidence.”

“If you’re trying to say it’s human related, I might throw up,” you say. You reach over to turn off the shower.

You both dry yourselves off and head back into the bedroom. You rummage around in your dresser for another sundress while John grabs his bag. When you find what you’re looking for and turn around, John is pulling out a fresh pair of black pants and another white shirt. You think about giving him shit for it. But instead you shake your head and get dressed. Once you both look presentable, you give John your spare room key. As he tucks it into his pocket, you reach for your small knife and lift up your dress to slip it into the sheath strapped to your thigh.

John watches you, head tilted to the side as he slips the end of a cigarette into his mouth. “And I thought the shotgun was sexy.”

You laugh. “Yeah, had to pack light,” you tell him, adjusting your dress. “So you haven’t told me what you’ve been up to.”

“Same old,” John says, lighting his cigarette. “Fighting demons and trying to win back my soul.”

“How’s that going for you?” you ask him, sitting on the bed so you can slip on a pair of flats.

“You saw the scars,” John says. He grabs the ashtray from the table and moves to sit next to you. That haunted look in his eyes is back.

You finish putting your shoes on and know it’s either now or never. “John, have you been alone this whole time?” you ask. “Since I left? We never really got to talk about what happened to Chas or Zed. At least, you never told me what happened. You told me about them. But never why they were gone.”

“Chas has been by a few times,” he says. “But his daughter comes first. Always has. As for Zed…” He pauses to exhale, surrounding his profile in smoke. You wave it away impatiently. “She didn’t want to remove the tumor. So. It did what tumors do.”

You feel a wave of sorrow and pity wash over you. From what you gathered during your time together, they were very close. Part of you wonders if they were romantically involved, but it wasn’t your business so you never asked. You want to say ‘sorry’ but you know the word would not be appreciated. Instead you reach over to take John’s hand. He laces his fingers with yours.

“I liked you when we first met because you clearly didn’t want to stick around,” John admits. “Everyone who puts their trust in me dies. As useful as you were to me and the mission, you deserved a choice to leave.”

“Were you going to ask me to stay?” you ask him. You had always wondered about that. The way he had approached you that night had made you sure he wanted you to stay with him. But of course he had just told you to take care of yourself and that was it.

After taking another drag, John says, “I wouldn’t have asked it of you. You had a chance to get far away from me.” He exhales the smoke slowly.

“What if I had asked to stay?” you inquire. “Would you have let me?”

“Doesn’t matter now,” John says, taking one last drag of his cigarette before extinguishing it in the ashtray.

“It does to me.”

He regards you with an unreadable expression before he runs a hand through his wet hair. “Why?” he asks.

You shrug. “I know you were joking earlier when you said this was fate. But, maybe we were meant to find each other.” He pales when you say this and you can see your words make him uncomfortable. He removes his hand from yours. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s just...that’s what Zed said.”

The air around you is heavy and as much as you want to hash this out now, you have a job to do. There was a lot left unsaid when you two departed. But people’s lives may be at stake and you’ve spent enough time locked away in your suite. Time to get things done.

“Alright, we’ll talk about this some other time,” you assure him. You see him relax his shoulders slightly. Clearly he wasn’t up for continuing the conversation. “You ready to do this married thing, Johnny?”

He makes a face. “You had to say ‘Johnny’ didn’t you?” he asks.

“I thought it would annoy you,” you admit.

John laughs and gets up. He grabs his bag and pulls it across the bed until it’s right next to you. “Let’s see, what will we need?” he mutters to himself as he digs through it. Curiously, you take a peek inside. You don’t recognize half the stuff he’s pawing through and truthfully you wonder how he was able to get passed security. Then again, it’s John Constantine. The less you know, the better. You wonder why he just doesn’t bring the whole bag, but then you realize it would look pretty strange considering where you are.

When he draws his hand out, he holds up a diamond ring. “Your ring, darling.”

“How do you just have that in there?” you ask, taking it from him.

“Don’t get too excited, love. It’s just a piece of costume jewelry,” John says.

“I noticed all the missing people are married couples,” you say, slipping the fake engagement ring on. “I’m sure you realized that already. If I have to ask you before I tell people you have stomach problems, then you need to ask me before you decide we’re going to be bait.”

“Thought it best if you didn’t know, but fair enough,” he says, going back to look in his bag.

“Best if I didn’t know?” you repeat. “Asshole, I was perfectly safe until you showed up. I wasn’t even going to be a target.”

John pauses to shoot you a stern look. “Would you rather we be targets, or one of them?” he asks, indicating the other guests.

You may not like the method, but you have to admit that he has a point. So you don’t answer. He goes back to looking through his bag.

Eventually he mutters, “Ah, here it is.” and pulls out a playing card. When you look at him questioningly he adds. “When I show it to someone, it turns into whatever I need it to be.” He tucks the card into his back pocket right next to his room key.

“How come I didn’t see that magic trick last time?” you ask.

“There are plenty of magic tricks I have that you haven’t seen yet, love,” John purrs. “If you’re a good girl maybe I’ll show you some later.”

And just like that, you guys are back to the playful, flirty banter. “What will you show me if I’m bad?”

You have to say, you live for that vein that twitches in John’s neck any time you say something sexual. He makes a noise in the back of his throat and leans forward to lightly headbutt you. “If we didn’t have people to save I would show you right now.” He tries to kiss you, but you don’t let him because you know that will just lead to something you don’t have time for.

“Later,” you assure him, drawing your thumb down his bottom lip.

He grunts with annoyance but nods. Pulling away, he clears his throat and collects himself before he extends his hand to you. You notice he’s still wearing the guard’s ring. “Alright, Mrs. Constantine. Our vacation awaits.”

You put your hand in his and allow him to draw you to your feet. You both walk to the door, hand-in-hand. Before he opens it, he gives you a questioning look. You take a deep breath and nod, before you both leave.

“Dinner would probably be in the main dining room,” you tell John as he lets the door slam behind him.

“Before we go there, let’s take a walk this way,” John says, motioning in the opposite direction. “The first couple’s room is not too far from here.”

“Fine, but let’s make it quick,” you tell him. “I’m starving.”

You walk down the hallway together, keeping an eye out for anything that can be considered a clue. The hallways are spotless however. No smudges, scorch marks, not even chipped paint or torn carpets. It’s actually a little unsettling at how clean it is. Though, as a five-star cruise, you wouldn’t expect anything less. Around the corner from your room John stops outside one of the doors. He examines it for a few moments, running his hands along the wood. He seems like he’s listening or feeling for something. He frowns and closes his eyes. After a few moments he opens them again and knocks on the door. Neither of you hear anything inside so he tries the handle. Of course it’s locked.

“Bollocks,” he mutters.

“Why did you want to check the room if you can’t get into it?” you ask with a chuckle.

“I was hoping to have figured that out by now,” John admits, staring at the door thoughtfully.

You roll your eyes and nudge him out of the way. You examine the runes on your wrist until you find the one you’re looking for. You say the incantation and once the rune begins to burn slightly, you reach through the wood to open the door from the inside. It swings open and you give John a smug smile. “It’s cute how much you need my help,” you say.

“Alright, alright, don’t get cocky,” he says, moving past you to enter the room. You chuckle and follow after him. Once inside you close the door behind you. The room is clearly being used, so you both try not to touch or move anything as you take a look around.

John’s jaw is clenched as he takes a careful look in the closet and under the bed.

“Anything?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “No,” he says. He inhales deeply. “No smell of sulfur, or anything putrid. I don’t get any negative feelings. A demon has never set foot in this room.”

“Well that’s comforting at least,” you say. “I think we can rule out specific room numbers being the target. I don’t think this person is next. Look, just one suitcase. One set of clothes.” You glance in the bathroom. “One set of toiletries. Man by the look of things.”

When you turn back to look at John, you jump with surprise because he’s right in front of you. He puts his hand over your mouth and presses his finger to his lips. You listen carefully and you realize you can hear the sound of footsteps coming closer. John pulls away and starts to look for somewhere to hide but you hold your left hand out. There’s a rune on your palm and you whisper an incantation. The rune glows white.

John notices just as the footsteps stop at the door and he crosses over to you. You manage to grab his outstretched hand just as the door swings open. A large, middle-aged man enters in swim trunks. He has a towel draped over his shoulders and he’s brown from time in the sun. You and John inch yourselves carefully backwards until you’re pressed right up against the wall behind the man.

He clearly doesn’t see you two, thanks to your invisibility spell.

John’s hand is grasping yours firmly, but even with the added person your spell is holding strong. You’re actually proud of that fact. The man makes his way towards the bathroom and you pray he closes the door once he gets inside. Thankfully, he does and, as quietly as you can, you and John inch your way over to the door. When you hear the shower running, John quickly opens the room door and you both hurry out, making sure to close it quietly behind you.

Once in the hallway, you let go of John’s hand and shake your wrist until the rune stops glowing. Without a word, you head in the direction of the dining room.

It’s not until you pass your room door that John says something. “That’s new,” he comments, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I’ve learned a few things over the past two years,” you say. “Runes and magic seem to come easier to me now.” He removes one hand from his pocket so he can place his arm around your waist.

“I of all people know the limits and price of magic,” John begins.

“John, I’m being careful,” you tell him. “I never take on a spell that’s bigger than I can handle. And I’m not dabbling in the dark arts. No spirit or demon raising for me thank you very much.”

“Good, because I’ll know if you do,” John says.

You both fall silent as you start to find yourself surrounded by the other guests again. You try to keep your expression happy, but it’s hard when you’re scrutinizing everything around you. John seems to be having the same problem. His arm drops from your waist and you reach for his hand, giving it a light squeeze. He squeezes back.

When you get to the dining room, just the sight of the buffet is enough to make your stomach growl. “Oh thank god,” you mutter as you and John get in line. He chuckles, letting your hand go so he can grab plates. He hands you one and you both study the food before letting your eyes scan the room. You notice that the dining room seems to be divided. One side has families with children, while the other seems to be mostly couples. You nudge John. “I think I know where we should sit.”

“Yeah I noticed,” he says in a low voice. He nudges you back. “The line's moving. Let’s eat.”

Chuckling, you go about piling your plate with as much food as you can. John does the same thing, but while you choose your foods carefully, John just seems to pick whatever is closest. Once your plate is overloaded, you both walk over to one of the empty tables on the couple’s side of the room. You sit down and a waiter comes to take your drink order.

“Whisky,” John says immediately.

“Just water for me,” you say.

As the waiter walks away, John gives you a look. “What you don’t drink the good stuff anymore?” he asks.

You laugh. “I do, just not very often,” you say. “Everyone’s liver needs a break from time to time.”

“I have to say Lola, I miss the whisky drinking bird with a shotgun,” he says.

“Oh trust me, I’m still that person,” you say. “Just with a lot less anger.”

“You seem better than you were before,” John comments. “Mentally at least. You haven’t punched me yet. So that’s a plus.”

“Still might,” you tease. “Just don’t give me a reason to.”

The waiter brings you your drinks and you dig into your plate. John takes a gulp of his drink before he does the same. Everything tastes delicious and you waste no time clearing your plate. As you eat, you and John keep your eyes peeled, but nothing unusual or out of place seems to be happening. Everyone seems happy and completely non-threatening. Once you’re full, you sit back in your chair with a sigh.

John finishes his food as well and gets a refill on his drink. As he sips this one, he looks around thoughtfully. “All this happiness makes me uneasy,” he mutters to you. “These people have no idea about these disappearances. Or if they do, they don’t care.”

“They probably think it had nothing to do with the cruise line. Or they don’t know,” you say. “Think about it. If two separate people go missing it’s suspicious. If a couple goes missing, there are a million excuses as to what could be the reason.”

“Incoming,” John mutters to you from behind his glass. You look up in time to see an older couple coming your way. They stop right next to your table.

“Mind if we join you?” the woman asks cheerfully.

“Please do,” you say, motioning to the empty seats in front of them.

The woman smiles brightly while the man barely shows any emotion. They take the seats offered. “I’m Nancy, this is Stan,” the woman says.

“I’m Johnny,” John says with his charming smile. “And this is my beautiful wife, Lola.”

“I love your accent!” Nancy gushes. “Where are ya’ll from?”

“Well Johnny here is from Liverpool, which is where we met,” you say, sliding your chair closer to John. He drapes his arm around your shoulders. “We’re on our honeymoon.”

“Isn’t that sweet?” Nancy asks. “Isn’t it, Stan?”

“Sure,” Stan says. He digs into his food, but doesn’t really look like he’s enjoying it.

“Then you must be doing the romance package,” Nancy says.

“Romance package?” John asks.

“It’s what all the couples do on this cruise,” Nancy says. “It comes with spa stuff, special gifts delivered to your room, all kinds’a stuff. It’s a special package and then anyone who does the package gets an exclusive invitation to a formal dinner with the captain.”

“And you say a lot of couples do this?” you ask.

Nancy nods. “Oh yes,” she says. “It’s supposed to be a huge highlight of the cruise. We never done it, but I always wanted to.”

John leans in close to you. “We found our connection,” he mutters in your ear. You giggle as if he said something sweet and he kisses your cheek for show.

“You two are just adorable,” Nancy gushes. “You’re so clearly in love.”

At this statement your eyebrows shoot up and even John looks surprised, if not amused. “Is that so?” he asks with a wide grin. “How can you tell?”

“I just can see the way you look at each other,” Nancy says. “Your eyes just light up.”

You want to laugh. God do you want to laugh. You keep it in, but it’s hard. A small laugh escapes and you can barely stifle it. You play it off as a cough and reach for your water.

John gives you a look like he’s almost offended you find this so funny. “Well how about that, dear,” he says, leaning in closer. “Our eyes just light up when we look at each other.”

“Uh huh,” you say, nodding with agreement. You avoid eye contact with him because you know you’ll lose it. Instead you keep sipping your water.

Nancy doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Her husband still doesn’t seem to care.

“Say, Nancy,” John asks. “Besides this romance package, what else do couples do?”

You squint at him suspiciously, laughter completely forgotten at his tone. You don’t like it. It’s time for him to avoid eye contact.

“Well, there’s the couples’ dance competition by the outside pool that’ll be starting soon,” Nancy says. “And a bunch of other couples activities scheduled throughout the next few days.”

John looks at you and you try to discreetly shake your head. “Oh a dance contest!” he says. “I know how much you like to dance.”

 _Bastard_ , you think.

“Sure, Johnny,” you say, putting your cup down so you can lean in closer. “But only because you want to do it.” You give his thigh a reassuring pat.

You can tell he was expecting you to put up a fight. But he did say you should go along with whatever the other said. You raise your eyebrow in challenge and he smirks. “Well then come on, love,” he purrs. He stands and nods towards the older couple. “Nancy, Stan, so lovely to meet you.” He extends his hand to you.

Cursing under your breath, but all smiles for show, you take his hand and let him pull you out of your seat.

“You son of a bitch,” you mutter to him.

“This is for the ‘stomach’ comment earlier,” he mutters back.

He leads you outside to the pool deck. There’s already a group of couples gathered and an over-enthusiastic activities director is trying to corral others. More like screaming unnecessarily. You don’t want anything to do with this dance contest. But now you have to prove something to John, like you’re not going to back down from his challenge. Not now, not ever.

“Now everyone, escort your partner onto the dance floor!” the director shouts through the bullhorn. Which really defeats the purpose.

John steps onto the dance floor and extends his hand towards you, eyes filled with amusement at your discomfort. You glare but take his hand. The music starts. Some terrible beat that sounds like it may have been hip hop turned into some horrible mix. John makes the same face you do at the music, but he spins you onto the dance floor and holds you close. Your feet move carefully at first. It’s been a long time since you danced with someone. And you’ve never enjoyed dancing in front of people.

Not like this at least. In a dark club, with booze and proper music, sure. Now people are watching and judging.

“You’re a dick,” you tell him.

He laughs. “We have to sell this cover,” he says in a low voice as he pulls you close. “We have to do what newlywed couples would do.”

“So, we do this romance thing tomorrow, get to that formal dinner and then see if we can figure out who is making these people disappear,” you say. “Because I’m pretty confident it’s a who, not a what.”

“I agree,” John says. He spins you away from him only to bring you back in close.

“This also means we need to get you something to wear,” you say.

He pouts. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?” he asks.

“You mean what you wear always? John, it’s a formal dinner. Black pants, white shirt and a tie aren’t going to cut it,” you say. “We’ll stop by one of the shops on the upper levels and get you something appropriate.”

“Only if you wear something slinky,” John grins. “Maybe show some leg.”

You chuckle. “Fine, deal.”

You fall silent again, moving around the dance floor at a faster pace as the music picks up. The activities director says something, but you’re too busy focused on the feeling of his hand on your lower back. “Let me ask you something, love,” he says. “Why did you find her comment so funny?”

“Come on, John,” you say. “Us in love? You can’t tell me you found that hilarious too.”

He cracks a smile. “So you don’t have some love for me?” he asks.

The tone of his voice makes you falter your steps, but he goes with it, keeping you both moving across the dance floor. He’s giving you a look you haven’t seen before and it makes you a little confused and uncomfortable. “Why?” you ask.

“I’m just saying,” John says with a shrug. “You have to admit there are feelings between us.”

“Yeah,” you say. “But I’m not sure if love is the word I would use. Would you say you have love for me?”

He doesn’t answer. He spins you again and this time when he pulls you back in, you’re much closer than before. Your hand feels hot in his and his lips are brushing against yours. “If I did, would that surprise you?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say bluntly. “Though being in love and loving someone are two different things.”

“Ay, that’s true,” John says. “You think about me, I think about you. What does that mean?”

“We’re seriously fucked up,” you say. “And fucked up people are often drawn to each other. I think we comfort each other. And in this world, with what’s happening, we take all the comfort we can get.”

He leans his face closer to yours. “So no love, then?”

“Do you want me to love you?”

“Loving me is a dangerous game, I just want to make sure you don’t fall into the same trap others have,” John says, pulling back slightly.

His comment riles you up and you can’t help but glare at him. He’s talking to you like you’re a lovesick teenager and it makes you want to punch him in the face. “Wow, your arrogance should never cease to amaze me, but it does,” you say.

He chuckles. “Just making sure we’re on the same page,” he says.

“Uh huh, yeah sure.”

Suddenly clapping erupts around you and you two stop and look around. You realize you’ve been dancing while the other couples have stopped. And from the looks of it, it long time ago. Nancy and Stan are there in the crowd and you try not to look at her sappy expression. The activities director announces you the winners. You and John put on a show with a smile and a bow. Without warning he pulls you close, dips you and plants a huge kiss on your lips.

When he draws away, he wiggles his eyebrows and you playfully smack him on the arm. He lets you stand up straight and the director hands you a  gift certificate for some shop or other. John pockets it with a grin and you lead him away from everyone and towards the railing of the ship.

Once you break from the crowd of people, John pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and pops it into his mouth. You lean on the railing and look out across the dark water. You hear the lighter click.

“It’s beautiful out here,” you say. “Calming even.”

“Except for people disappearing,” comes the muffled response. He leans against the railing next to you.

“Way to kill the mood.”

“You killed it first earlier.”

You turn your head to look at him. “Why did you ask me if I have love for you?”

John wrinkles his nose at the question and you expect him to not answer. But he does. “This darkness that’s coming,” he says. “I’ve been fighting it for years now and I think it’s coming soon. I can feel it.”

You feel fear wash over you and the hair on the back of your neck stands up. Hell and earth, together. That’s one thing you never wanted to add to your list of nightmares. “Do you think you can stop it?”

“Maybe,” John says. “But it’s been getting me thinking. A lot.”

He doesn’t continue. You don’t force him to. You think you know where he’s coming from. Instead you lean against him. He doesn’t move at first. Eventually he takes the cigarette from his lips and exhales.

“I wish I could stay on this cruise with you after this, Lola,” he continues after a long silence. “It’s tempting to hide away here and pretend like nothing is going on in the world. But I have a mission to do. And I have to get back.”

You are disappointed. You knew it was a long shot. “Yeah, I figured,” you say. “Just, don't dismiss it entirely just yet. Still consider it, okay?”

John smirks. “Only because you asked nicely, love,” he says. “Come, let’s go back to the room. I’m bloody knackered.”

You have to agree with him. Even after the nap you're exhausted. John slept longer than you did, but his eyes are still droopy. If the dinner is where the victims are chosen, you can afford to retire for the evening. You’ve seen nothing out of the ordinary that warrants more investigation.

John flicks his cigarette over the edge of the railing and into the water. You link your arm with his and follow him back to the room.

Once inside, you don’t even bother turning on the lights.

You step out of your shoes, but before you can reach to unzip your dress, you feel John come up behind you and pull the zipper down for you. His lips find the back of your neck in the dark and you shudder as he nips the sensitive skin.

Your dress slides from your still frame and John slides his hands down your hips. You feel the sheath around your thigh loosen and your knife drops to the ground with a soft thud. You turn to face him then. You can just barely make out his features in the dark. But then the moon moves out from behind some clouds and the suite is bathed in white light. He catches your lips in a firm kiss, hands on your lower back as he walks you towards the bed.

You feel the back of your knees hit the edge and you draw him back with you as you move to lay down. He pauses to pull his tie off and unbutton his white shirt as you shimmy out of your bra and underwear. Once naked, you help rid him of the rest of his clothing and you both tumble into bed. His mouth is relentless against yours and his hands seem to be trying to map your entire body.

His cock is already stiff against your leg, but when you move your hands to reach for him, he grips them tightly and pins them above your head. With one hand he holds you down while the other briefly cups your tit before sliding down your stomach and in between your legs. He drags two fingers along your slit and you twitch at the roughness of his hand. His mouth travels down your cheek to suck on your neck and you can’t help but groan.

You’re soon slick against his fingers. His other hand still pins yours to the bed, while his mouth starts nipping and kissing the spot just below your ear.

“Let me touch you,” you plead, running your foot up the back of his leg. But then he slides a finger inside of you and you dissolve into loud moan as you arch your back.

“But I’m having too much fun touching you,” John chuckles. “Last time I had you under me, never really did get the chance to explore.”

“Do you want to explore me, John?” you ask.

“Ho ho, very much so, lass,” he grins. “Now are you going to be a good girl and let me? Or am I going to have to tie you up?”

You whimper. You can’t help yourself. The thought of being completely at John’s mercy makes your cunt throb with longing and you clamp your thighs around his wrist.

“Ohhhhhh, is that how it is?” John asks. He pulls away from you completely and you scramble to reach for him. NO! Why did he let you go? You’re still throbbing for him.

But then he’s right in front of you, pushing you onto your back again. He straddles your waist and grabs your wrists, binding them together with the tie he just removed. “So that’s why you always wear one?” you ask.

His grin widens. “It does come in handy,” he says. He presses your bound hands to the bed above your head. “Now, where were we?”

“I believe,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him in closer, “you were exploring me.”

“Mmm, that’s right,” John says, running his hands up your legs. He grips your thighs and gives them a squeeze. “But where to start?” His eyes rake across your body and you wonder what you must look like to him. Your arms bound above your head, your body spread out before him. One hand reaches out and then his thumb is rubbing your clit and you arch into his touch.

“You are a vision,” he continues. “The dreams didn’t do you justice. It was maddening being close to you without being able to really touch you.” He punctuates his words with another firm rub and you gasp.

“Are you going to tease me some more or are you going to get on with it?” you ask.

“Just as demanding as I remember,” John says. He leans forward and places kisses along your hip and up your stomach. His thumb continues to work your clit before it dips down to run between your folds.

“Funny,” you pant. “I don’t remember you being so slooooohhhh….” you break off into a loud moan as John slides two fingers into you without warning. That clever tongue of his drags between the valley of your tits before moving to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

“I told you I wanted to explore,” John says, stubble scraping your sensitive skin as he nuzzles your chest. “And that’s exactly what I’m going to do, love.”

You lack any kind of comeback so you just moan and let him continue his exploration. His mouth busies itself with your tits. Waves of heat flow through your body at an alarming rate as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. When his mouth moves lower down your chest again, you grow excited. You clearly remember how it felt to have his head buried between your thighs and you can’t wait to feel it again.

Fingers still inside you, John’s mouth finds your clit and sucks softly. Your movements are completely out of your control now and your hips jerk wildly upwards, searching for more. He places his free hand on your stomach to hold you down. And then suddenly, his tongue is swirling around your clit while his fingers find that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“John!” you gasp. Your wrists are getting a little sore from being tied together tightly so you flex your fingers.

“Do you want more?” John asks in between sensual licks.

You nod frantically. Sweat has formed on your body and your hair is starting to stick to your forehead. You arch towards him, but he draws back until only his fingers are touching you. You grunt with annoyance. “Don’t...tease…” you pant.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” John purrs. He withdraws his hand from between your legs and you whine. You tighten your legs around him, trying to pull him closer but he resists slightly. He notices your desperation. “Don’t worry. Just need to grab something.”

You watch him lean over the edge of bed as he reaches into his bag. You hear the sound of a wrapper as he pulls out a condom. “Lets play things a little safer this time, yeah?”

You don’t tell him that you have your own methods of birth control and you were safe last time. You understand where he’s coming from. You watch as he tears open the wrapper with his teeth. You wish your hands weren’t tied so you could help him. Instead you watch as he carefully rolls the condom over himself before stroking a few times.

“John…” you practically beg.

“I’m coming, love,” John assures you, crawling over your body. He stops when he comes face to face with you, bending down to give you a quick kiss. You bring your arms up off the bed and place them around his neck, pulling him in closer as you wrap your legs around him again. He chuckles, but doesn’t try to make you stay still. You feel his hand move between you and the head of his cock presses in between your folds.

You roll your hips forward to take him in, and the action causes you both to let out twin moans. He pumps his hips a couple of times and then he’s completely inside of you. He buries his face in your neck as he begins to rock against you. Your body practically trembles. After so long apart and so many nights dreaming of this, it’s finally happening and you can barely catch your breath.

You can’t run your hands down his back, so you bury your fingers in his hair and nuzzle the side of his face until he draws himself out of your neck. Lips meet lips urgently and tongues begin to dance as John slowly fucks you.

It’s nothing like the last time.

Last time there was urgency. Last time it was just two people trying to use each other to dull the pain, each trying to chase their own pleasure and ignoring the other’s. This time however, it’s different. No urgency. No rush.

This time it’s two people who genuinely missed each other trying to reconnect.

And as he’s buried deep inside you, you cannot deny you feel reconnected. John rests his weight on one arm, while his other hand slides down your hip to grip your thigh around his waist. His fingers bury themselves into your flesh as he uses your leg for leverage, deepening his thrusts as much as he can. You can’t help but cling to him tightly, letting his tongue take dominance from yours.

Your hips are meeting his repeatedly now and you can feel your orgasm approaching slowly. You move your wrists to adjust them and feel the tie loosen slightly. Still moving along with John, you manage to wriggle yourself free and take the opportunity to slide your hands along his sweaty back. He doesn’t seem to care. He pulls away to catch his breath and you see his eyes are closed as he loses himself in the feeling of your walls around him.

Your body starts to twitch and you cling to him tighter, chasing your fastly approaching orgasm.

“Come for me,” he whispers in your ear, lips and tongue tracing the shell. “Lola, I want you to come.”

You moan in response and it only takes a few more deep thrusts before you’re convulsing around him. His mouth travels down your neck and to your throat and you feel his teeth press against the skin there as he reaches his own peak.

He keeps moving his hips until he has no energy left and collapses against you, panting.

“Better than the dream?” you ask, stroking his hair.

He chuckles breathlessly. “There’s no comparison.”

He withdraws from you and sits back on his heels. You watch as he carefully removes the condom and ties it closed before chucking it into the small trashcan by the bed. After, he collapses onto the bed next to you, face-first into the mattress. You chuckle and then shiver as the ocean breeze comes through the window, cooling your sweaty skin. You move to slide under the comforter while John sits up slightly. You hear his hand rustle around on the nightstand and then you hear the click of the lighter.

Cigarette in hand, John flops onto his back. You take a chance and curl up against his side. His arm comes around you to pull you in closer and you rest your head on his chest. He takes a drag from his cigarette.

“Tomorrow, we get up early,” he says. “I want to check out at least one of the other guest rooms. I know the room of the latest missing couple is out of order. Then we do that package the other couples did and we attend that formal dinner with the captain. If all goes well, we figure this thing out before the night’s end.”

“How do you know what room numbers the couples were in?” you ask.

“Did some research on the company before I got on board,” John explains. “Chas helped me. We got a look at their records and guest profiles, trying to find a connection. Clearly there wasn’t much, hence why I needed to get on board. We came up with this plan and here I am.”

“Things never go according to plan,” you remind him, feeling sleep tugging at you. “How much are you willing to bet everything goes pear-shaped?”

“There’s no need to bet,” John says. “I completely agree. That’s why whatever happens, don’t go running off without me.”

“I can deal with that,” you say through a yawn.

You both fall into silence as John finishes his cigarette. Once he’s done, he extinguishes it in the ashtray before drawing the blanket up. You feel his stubble scrape across your forehead before his lips place a soft kiss there.

“Sleep tight, love,” he mutters, burying his face in your hair.

You don’t respond. Instead you smile to yourself and drift off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

You awake the next morning, warm and comfortable. You enjoy the slight rocking of the ship as you allow yourself to slowly come back to consciousness. Your body is a little sore, but it’s nothing you haven’t felt before and once you remember why, you can’t help but grin. You eventually allow yourself a large stretch, inhaling sharply. You smell the ocean air, cigarettes...and bacon?

“Food?” you mutter, head emerging from beneath a pile of pillows.

John is standing by the small table, completely naked say for a towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets still fall from his hair as he transfers a couple of plates from the room service cart to the table.

At your question, he turns towards you with a grin. He picks a piece of fruit off one of the plates. “Morning, love,” he says before slipping the grape into his mouth. “Your breakfast awaits. Now, typically I like to cook it myself but I’ll settle for room service. Charged everything to the room, hope that’s alright.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to do otherwise,” you say with a chuckle, unwrapping yourself from the fluffy bedsheet. “Did you open the door for room service in just a towel?”

John smirks. “Thought about doing it starkers, but decided against it,” he says. “Didn’t matter, the lad was still pleased as punch.”

You roll your eyes. “What time is it?”

“Barely eight,” John says, moving towards you. As he walks, the towel slips and he doesn’t bother to try and fix it. You watch it drop to the floor and can’t help the heat that races through your body once he’s there in all his naked glory. After yesterday you would think you would be satisfied for at least a few more hours, but apparently not. “Figured we can have some us time before work time.” He climbs onto the bed and moves towards you almost cat-like.

“I feel like we’ve done more ‘us’ time than actual work time,” you tell him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You run your hand through your sleep-mussed hair.

“Aye, that might be true,” John agrees. “But are you really going to complain about it?” He pulls back the rest of the blanket slightly to reveal your nakedness and takes a moment to place a few kisses up your thigh.

“Not even a little,” you smirk. His stubble gently scratches against your soft skin and it sends a shiver through your body.

John smirks back up at you. “Then why don’t you go freshen up, we’ll have some breakfast and then…” His eyes darken with promise and he leans up to brush his lips against yours. “I’ll wake you up good and proper.”

You shake your head lovingly before giving him a light shove and getting out of bed. As you walk past him, he gives your ass a resounding smack and you jump at the contact. His laugh follows you across the room and you can feel his eyes on you the entire way. You shoot him a grin over your shoulder before childishly sticking out your tongue. His smile widens.

Once inside the bathroom, you close the door and relieve yourself before jumping in the shower.

Now that you’re alone, your smile begins to fade and that voice in the back of your head starts to make itself heard. You know exactly what kind of man John Constantine is. Sure he can be filled with honeyed words and loving touches, but he’s not above doing whatever he wants and sacrificing whoever he needs to in order to get the job done. You’ve witnessed it yourself while hunting the Succubi way back when. You’ve also met a fair few hunters in your time apart and they all sing the same song: stay away from John Constantine.

While it’s too late for that, you know that you can’t allow yourself to get too attached. This is fun, but you need to be on your guard.

You allow yourself these dark thoughts and doubts for another minute before you push them away. Because despite all you know about him, you still care for him and you still think he deserves to have some fun. And if you’re who he chooses to have that fun with, to forget about saving the world if just for a little while, then you’re not going to complain. You’ll just enjoy it while it lasts, however long that may be.

When you are finally done in the bathroom, you step out to find John sitting at the table, fork in one hand and your tablet in the other. He’s still completely naked and you take a page from his book and don’t bother getting dressed. Instead you dry yourself off with the towel and let it fall to the floor next to his.

You cross the room to join him, taking the empty chair. Along with bacon and fruit, there are also eggs, toast and pastries. You grab a little bit of everything as John puts down the fork and tablet to pour you some coffee.

“So first things first, we need to check out those other rooms you mentioned,” you say between bites of eggs.

“That we do,” John agrees. He puts the coffee pot down and picks up his package of cigarettes. He slides the end of one into his mouth and scours the table for his lighter. “Maybe just one will be fine. I’m curious as to why that particular room is out of order. I’m wondering if they’re trying to cover something up.”

“Well, couldn’t it just be routine maintenance stuff?” you ask.

“Could be,” John says. “Wouldn’t hurt to check.”

“Fair enough,” you say with agreement. You find the lighter under your napkin and hand it to him “And after, we do the couples thing and then hopefully we’ll find out more at the party tonight. If we can get a chance to question the captain they might be able to give us some kind of insight. The guests might not know about the people disappearing, but the captain would.”

John lights his cigarette and takes a thoughtful drag. “I already registered us for the package,” he says, dropping the lighter back onto the table. “If we play our cards right, we can question the staff while we’re doing it.”

“Fine, but we need to be careful,” you remind him, picking up a piece of bacon. “I know how you like to interrogate people. We have to play nice on this one.”

John gives you a look of mock offense. “I always play nice,” he lies. You stare him down and he cracks a smile. “Well, I try.”

Bullshit. You give him a pointed look before changing the subject. “What’s the package entail anyways?” you ask.

“Couples massages, free lunch and some other shite I don’t remember,” John says. You both stop talking as you busy yourselves with breakfast.

“If you’re not going to stay with me,” you say after a moment of silence. “Where are you headed after this?”

“Dunno,” John says, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Headed wherever the next case takes me. I have Chas scouring the internet for any strange occurrences that need attending to.”

“Shame,” you say. “Well, we’ll just have to make the next few hours count then.”

“We can also probably try to see each other more often than every two years,” John suggests. “You know, any time you have a hankering for John Constantine in your bed, you can just pick up a phone.”

“And you’ll come rushing over?” you ask with a smirk.

John shrugs nonchalantly. “That or you can come to the Mill House,” he says. “Where are you living these days anyways?”

“No one spot,” you tell him. “But I’ve been thinking about renting out an apartment now that I have some steady income. Moving constantly is becoming tiring.”

“What constitutes ‘steady income’?” John asks, putting his cigarette down in the ashtray before picking up his cup of orange juice.

“A string of credit card scams that are slowly paying off,” you say proudly.

“Good on you,” he chuckles. “I hear you can rent some pretty cheap places in Atlanta…”

You smirk. “Nice, really subtle.”

“I thought so.”

You finish your breakfast and turn your attention to your coffee. John finishes his cigarette before getting to his feet. He crosses to the bed and sits down. You stare out the window, watching the water as you enjoy your caffeinated beverage. You can feel John watching you again so you turn slowly to look at him. He’s leaning back on his hands, legs hanging over the side of the bed as he watches you with hooded eyes.

From his stance you can see he’s half-hard and you raise your eyebrow at him. “Can I help you?” you ask.

“We can help each other,” he says. He jerks his head towards the bed. “Why don’t you come on over here and give us a hand?”

You lean back in your chair so he can see your body spread out and his cock twitches at the sight. “Or you can give yourself a hand,” you say. You take a sip from your mug. “I’m not done with my coffee yet.”

John smirks and reaches down to grasp his cock firmly. Eyes still on you he strokes himself without hesitation. Your body warms at the sight, but you remain calm as you hold your coffee cup to your lips. He gives into the sensation and closes his eyes, head falling back slightly. You take in the sight hungrily, watching John pleasure himself right in front of you.

You no longer feel the need for coffee.

You put your cup down and noiselessly get out of your chair. John doesn’t notice. His chest is starting to rise and fall a little faster. When you draw closer, he opens his eyes and fixes you with a hungry look. You straddle his waist and he lets himself go so he can grab you by the hips. You slide one hand into his hair to tilt his head back so you can bend down to kiss him.

He groans at the first swipe of your tongue along his and uses his hands to bring you down completely on his lap. At the same time he thrusts up, so his erection drags between your legs. The second time he does it, you’re wetter and the movement is smoother.

His teeth tug on your bottom lip as he falls backwards, bringing you with him. You grind down against him. “Where’s your bag?” you ask huskily.

“Floor, foot of the bed,” John pants.

You climb off of him in search of what you’re looking for. You feel the bed move behind you as you lean over to grab a condom from John’s bag. You sit back on your heels and then he’s right behind you, mouth sucking greedily on your neck. One hand reaches to grab your tit, thumb circling your nipple, while the other hand travels down your stomach to slip between your legs.

You nearly fall forward but he holds you tightly against his chest, hands busy playing your body like a fine tuned instrument, lips and teeth teasing that sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder. When did he learn your body so well? Must have been from those dreams. Not that you’re complaining. Damn right you’re not complaining when his hand is doing things between your thighs that are making you tremble.

Suddenly your world spins and you find yourself on your hands and knees, facing away from the edge of the bed. John kneels behind you, hands sliding up the back of your thighs before he pulls your hips so your ass is flush against his lap and slides himself between your legs again.

With a groan, you toss the condom back to him. You hear him snatch it off the comforter and tear open the wrapper. You hear the sound of latex as he rolls it over himself. Then his hand is on your back. He pushes your top half down so you’re bent and spread before him. You feel the brief nudge of the head of his cock against your entrance and then he’s slowly working himself into you with small thrusts.

You move along with him, biting your lip as he sinks further into you.  

When he’s finally inside you, he lets out a low moan and removes his hand from your back so you can push yourself up on your hands. “Ohh, love,” he moans. He presses his chest along your back, deepening his thrusts. The angle makes you gasp and John attaches his mouth to your shoulder, nipping and sucking on the flesh greedily.

You rock back against him, matching his thrusts easily. You move that way for a while, gently rocking together. Every time he draws himself out, you chase after him, arching backwards until he’s completely buried in you again.

“Faster,” you manage to pant.

He quickens his pace without hesitation. You can feel his breath on your ear. “Tell me how it feels,” he growls. The gravelly sound of his voice immediately sends chills through your body and you shudder.

“Soo good,” you moan, twisting the comforter under your hands. “So fucking good!”

“Next time...you dream about me…” John mutters, lips dancing along the shell of your ear. His hand comes up underneath you and his fingers press against your clit. “I want you...to remember this moment.”

You will. God you will. Bent underneath John while he thrusts wildly into you, mouth teasing your earlobe and fingers pleasuring you mercilessly. Your arms begin to shake and you want to collapse but you haven’t come yet and his skin is so hot against yours that you don’t want to break contact.

“John,” you plead. The pressure on your clit is wonderful but it’s not enough. He’s keeping you hovering on the edge and you can’t stand it anymore. “John, please.”

“That’s right,” John grunts. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come,” you gasp. “Please, John. Let me come!”

“You beg so prettily,” he coos. He drops his hand from your clit and you practically sob with frustration. But then his strong arm comes around your waist and he pulls you backwards. He’s resting on his heels now and you're leaning all your weight against him while he thrusts deep up into you. His other hand returns to your clit and you reach behind you to grip his hair tightly as the first shockwaves of your orgasm hit. His mouth drops to your ear his hot breath makes you groan louder. “Alright love, you can come. Come for us, then.” His teeth press into your neck greedily.

And you do. You come hard and with a shout, your whole body tensing as waves of pleasure course through you. When it finally subsides, you have no energy left and slump against him. His arm is still holding you firmly as he finishes with a few more thrusts and loud moan.

His chest is moving rapidly and you find it hard to catch your breath yourself. You both fall to the mattress, legs tangled together. His arm is still around you and his body is flush along yours.

“Told you I could guarantee it would be more than once,” John eventually says and you both let out breathless laughs. He draws away from you to dispose of the condom and roll out of bed. You flop onto your back, pushing your sweaty hair out of your face. John crosses to the table and picks up a cigarette. You watch him light it and take a drag. You’re still unable to move much.

When he turns to look at you, John has a smug smirk. “Don’t you look thoroughly ravished,” he says.

“Admiring your handy work?” you grin back.

“That I am, love,” he agrees, moving towards the bed. “That I am. You’re making it really difficult to stick with my decision to leave.”

You chuckle and stretch. Your muscles protest at the movement, but only for a second. You feel delightfully boneless and satisfied. “You’re not exactly known for your self control,” you tell him. “So don’t try to play it off like it’s all me.”

His eyes take you in hungrily as his cigarette dangles from his lips.

“Stop staring at me like you’re going to devour me,” you tell him, pushing yourself up to sit. “We have work to do.”

“Right,” John says, nodding. He drops his cigarette into the ashtray and then bends to grab a pair of underwear out of his bag. “Off to play the married couple again. I think it’s early enough for us to check out that room. If we do it now, less chance there will be other people around.”

You roll yourself out of the bed and carefully get to your feet. You shuffle over to the dresser and get dressed as John does the same. You’ve mostly regained the use of your legs by the time you look presentable. You’re just slipping on your flip flops when John chuckles. “What?” you ask, looking up at him.

He crosses over to you and reaches out to brush your hair back from your neck. “Definitely sold on the ‘frisky’ newlyweds,” he says, touching the hickey there.

“Bastard, did you mark me?” you ask, pushing past him so you can seek out the mirror in the bathroom. Sure enough, there’s a reddish mark just starting to turn purple. “Fantastic. What are you, eighteen?”

“Couldn’t resist,” he teases, watching proudly from the bathroom doorway.

“You know we have massages later,” you say, turning to shoot him a glare.

“Can’t wait,” John says. You push past him on your way out the bathroom, shaking your head at his immaturity. “There’s also one on the back of your shoulder.”

“Well done, Constantine,” you say. “Admire your hickeys later. We have a case to wrap up.”

He doesn’t argue with you. Instead, he follows you into the bedroom and watches as you grab your purse from on top of the dresser. “Wait a minute,” he says as you reach for the door. He grabs his bag and digs through it for a moment before pulling out a few items. “Here, put these in your bag. I can’t bring mine.”

You let him load your purse with as much as it can carry before you two set out.

The hallways are silent as you and John make your way towards the out of order room. Just like last time, John touches the door to try to sense any demons and doesn’t get any vibes. And just like last time, you open the door for him.

All the furniture has been removed from the room and it smells of fresh paint.

“Purse,” John orders, reaching towards you. You hand him your bag and he pulls out a thin, rolled up piece of parchment. You take your purse back as he lights the end of the paper with his lighter and waves it around the room, chanting. Once he blows out the flame, the smoke billows around you before making a hazy scene.

You see the shapes of people moving around the room, but it’s difficult for you to focus on what they are doing. You move to stand right next to John so you can have a better look. The smoke takes the shape of a painter; you can see his hand move up and down as he coats the wall in front of him. Upon further inspection, you notice that only that wall has been painted. The others don’t seem to have been. “There’s something under the paint,” you comment, pointing towards the wall.

John turns to you and you suddenly feel his hand slide between your thighs. You raise your eyebrow at him but then he pulls away holding up your knife, shooting you a cheeky smirk. You give him a light shove in the direction of the wall.

He crosses the room to the wall with the new paint and carefully scrapes it away. Dark brown shows underneath and you know immediately that it’s dried blood.

“There’s the evidence,” John says, wiping the blade on his pants as he takes a step back. “There was a struggle in here. Foul play then. Guaranteed.”

“Which means whoever is taking them is not above violence,” you say. “Good to know. We go armed to that dinner tonight.”

John nodded. “Let’s get out of here,” he says, handing you your knife as he passes you on his way to the door. “We have massages to get to.”

\--

The staff turned out to be a bust. When you and John arrive for your massages, the staff members barely say a word and no amount of verbal prodding gets them to open up. Same thing with the staff during your other treatments and during lunch.

Once all of that is done, you pick up your invitations for the formal dinner and take John to get a proper suit. They don’t have much in his size, but you’re able to get him something that roughly fits. A bit tight, but you like how it looks on him. He grumbles and complains the entire time. You take the rest of the day to partake in various couples related activities. You keep track of the faces of the people you meet so you can keep an eye out during the dinner.

Again there is no suspicious activity. And again, it’s a bit unsettling.

Hours later you are back in your suite, getting ready for what is probably going to be a very interesting dinner. John is busy fussing with his bowtie while you slide into the slinky dress you promised you’d wear for him.

“I’ve been thinking,” you say after several long minutes of silence.

“Should I be worried?” John asks, throwing you a smirk through his reflection in the mirror.

You make a face at him. “No,” you say. “I think if anything is going on here, the person can’t be working alone. They will have to have accomplices. It’s too much work for one person. Picking out the couple, making them disappear and then cleaning up after them? It’s a group effort but I don’t think it’s staff. Maybe some of the guests. We should try to keep an eye out for the captain and get as close to him as possible.”

“That’s a good idea,” John agrees. He stops messing with his bowtie and starts to fuss with his hair. You made him actually comb it and it’s neatly parted on the side and held down with gel. He doesn’t like it, but you both have to look impeccable if you’re going to make any kind of impression.

“Leave it, it looks fine,” you say. “Here, zip me up.”

You turn your back on him as he grumbles to himself and walks over to you. Carefully he takes the zipper between his fingertips and slides it up. He steps in a little closer than he needs to and places a soft kiss on the spot between your neck and shoulder that makes you shudder. “You look delectable.” He lets go of the zipper and you adjust the form fitting dress.

“Why thank you, but don’t get any ideas. You know how much makeup it took to hide your hickeys?” you tease with a smirk. “You look rather dashing yourself, by the way.”

“I hate this,” he says immediately as you turn around to look at him. True, he looks entirely uncomfortable in the getup. He fidgets and you try to ignore how you can see his muscles straining against the fabric. You notice his bowtie is crooked from him messing with it and you fix it.

“I know. Just think about the fact that once we solve this case, we’ll come back here and I’ll help you out of it,” you say with a grin.

He smirks back. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Alright, Johnny,” you say, making sure your dress falls in the right places. “Let’s catch a...well, whatever it is we’re looking for.”

He extends his arm to you and you accept it happily. Ready for whatever the evening has in store for you, you both leave the room. You only have a small purse with you, so there was only enough room for a few small trinkets of John’s. You have your knife still strapped to your thigh and John has one strapped to his ankle. You hope it will be enough.

The party is already well underway. You and John turn heads as you enter and you actually feel proud of that fact. Who doesn’t like turning heads when they look like a million bucks and have a handsome man on their arm?

John lets go of you so he can grab two champagne flutes from a nearby waiter. You scan the room as he does. You recognize a few faces from the various activities you went to earlier in the day, but no one that looks like they could be the captain. You accept the drink John offers you and take a thoughtful sip.

“What I wouldn’t give for a cigarette and shot of whiskey,” John mutters from around the rim of his glass.

“Anyone catch your eye?” you ask.

John gives a small half-shrug. “No, no one is standing out,” he says. “Except for you. That dress slinks in all the right places…”

“Behave yourself,” you playfully scold.

“No promises,” John says with a smirk.

Just past his shoulder you notice the older married couple from the day before. Nancy and Stan? Yeah, those were their names. They are speaking to a man who is standing slightly apart from the rest of the crowd. Several people pass in front of them and you wait patiently for them to move so you can get a better look. Nancy and Stan faces seem somewhat distressed, which puts you on edge.

“What’s wrong?” John asks, noticing your expression. He turns to see what you’re looking at. By that point, Nancy is wearing the wide smile you had seen her with before. Stan still looks like he’d rather be somewhere else. They catch your eye and Nancy waves enthusiastically from across the room.

“That woman scares me,” you say through your forced smile as you and John wave back.

“On that we can agree,” John says. “Something is off about her husband. Both of them actually...and now they are coming over.”

“Shit, prepare yourself,” you say.

Sure enough, Nancy is practically shoving her way past people to get to you, Stan trailing slowly behind her. The man they were talking to catches your eye, but only briefly before he disappears into the crowd. You blink once and the he is gone completely from your sights.  

“Hey! There you guys are!” Nancy says in a loud, obnoxious voice, as if you had planned to meet up this whole time.

“Hello, Nancy, Stan,” you say politely. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Look at how amazing y’all look!” Nancy gushes. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to pull off a dress like that!”

“That’s the plan later,” John says with a wink and you promptly elbow him in the rib. Nancy hides her mouth behind her hand as she blushes and gives a loud laugh. It takes all your willpower not to wince at the high pitched noise. Stan gives some sort of half-smile before taking a gulp of his drink.

“I thought this dinner was for special guests on the package,” you point out, recalling her words from earlier. “You finally had a chance to enjoy it, I assume?”

You notice a brief flash of panic in Nancy’s eyes, but it doesn’t last long. “Oh yes!” she says immediately. “Finally convinced Stan to shell out the extra money. It was completely worth it!”

Stan makes a grunt that’s neither an agreement nor a denial. It’s so hard for you not to share a look with John. You thought they were off before, now you’re sure of it.

“Lola! You have to come meet some of the other ladies with me!” Nancy exclaims, seizing your arm with surprising strength.

“Oh we’d love to,” you say, turning to look at John and hoping he understands the look you are giving him. The last thing you want is to be left alone with this woman.

“I’m sure they are wonderful,” John adds, stepping closer. He has the same sentiment as you do.

“Oh no, you wouldn’t want to come with,” Nancy insisted, pulling you a little so you aren’t standing directly next to John anymore. “It’ll just be boring lady chat. Why don’t you and Stan go over to the bar? I’m sure you’ll have much more fun there.”

“I’d much rather--” you began.

“Nonsense!” Nancy cuts you off. “This way!”

She keeps tugging you and though you and John agreed not to separate, you find yourself being pulled away from him. He lifts his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair back behind his ear and in the process brushes the corner of his eye slightly. You understand the gesture. He’ll be watching you.

You raise your glass to drink, tucking your pinky and ring finger into your palm so he can only see your other two fingers. You’ll watch him too. Nancy leads you through a throng of people and you get jostled and bumped into annoyingly so. Despite this, you are able to maneuver yourself enough to keep your eyes on John. It gets harder the further you move away however.

You spare a quick glance ahead of you. “Where are the ladies?” you ask Nancy.

You don’t see any group of women separated from their partners. In fact, when you look over your shoulder again, you can barely even see the bar. You see still John though. His blond hair is hard to miss. He’s craning his neck around the groups of people, trying to keep his eyes on you. Stan is with him, but he doesn’t look like he’s even trying to hold a conversation. He wears a scowl.

“Oh they are over towards the back,” Nancy answers.

Immediately your defenses go up. The group just happens to be at the furthest point away from John? Yeah, no thanks. You manage to put your drink down on a nearby table before you tug your hand out of Nancy’s grasp. Or try to. She’s surprisingly strong and she actually holds on to it. However, in the process, she stumbles backwards and turns to face you questioningly. You take the lapse in her grip to turn the tables and seize her wrist instead.

“There is no group of women, is there?” you ask in a low, dangerous tone.

Fear passes across her face. “Oh yes there--” She stumbles over her words.

“Shut up, you’re lying,” you say. Now that your palm is touching her wrist, you can feel her pulse beating wildly. She’s nervous. “Where are you really taking me?”

“I’m not taking you anywhere.”

You realize too late that you took your eyes off John for far too long. You spin around but you can’t see him in the sea of people. Not anymore. He’s not at the bar and he’s not in the spot where you left him. Stan is gone as well. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach and you clench your jaw angrily.

You feel Nancy trying to pull away but you’re much stronger than her. Something she clearly wasn’t anticipating.

“Where is he?” you snap, squeezing her wrist so hard you now she will have marks. People are starting to stare at you both, but you don’t care.

“Please, you don’t understand--”

“The only thing I want to hear from you is where John is,” you growl, stepping into her personal space. You’re a good foot taller than her in your heels and you use that to tower over her. “Where did Stan take him?”

\--

John opens his eyes with a wince. As the world comes into focus, he tries to remember where he is and how he got there. He remembers watching Lola being pulled away. He remembers turning to speak to Stan. They walked over to the bar and then...nothing. He groans as a shooting pain hits him right in the back of the head.

When he tries to move, he realizes his hands are tied behind his back, around one of the masts of the ship. The cold, ocean air whips around him and he shivers. He’s on the top deck, right on the front of the boat.

“Bloody fantastic,” he mutters, letting his head fall back against the mast. That proves to be a stupid move, since he hits the bump he mysteriously sustained.

He looks around and that’s when he sees Stan a few feet away. The man’s back is to him.

“Oy! Stan!” he snaps. “You better have one hell of an explanation for me.”

Stan doesn’t even spare him a look. “Don’t talk,” he says gruffly. “It won’t do you any good.”

“Well you don’t know me very well,” John says. “I happen to be extremely persuasive when the situation calls for it.”

Another male voice comes from around the corner. “The call has been made. Where’s the other one?” it asks.

John twists his neck as far as he can and is able to catch sight of the man Nancy and Stan had been speaking to before they had spotted him and Lola. Now that John can see him clearly, he is carrying himself the way someone of authority would and the answer as to who he is becomes clear. Looks like Lola was right.

“I presume you’re the captain of this vessel,” John says. “I have to say, mate, I’m going to submit one hell of an online review after this.”

The captain and Stan ignore him. “Nancy is bringing her,” Stan says. “Should be any minute. Are you sure they will be good enough? Last time--”

“Last time was an isolated incident,” the captain says. “There was nothing we could do about the damaged goods. They put up a fight and we had to do what we had to do. Are you sure no one saw you leave with him?”

“Positive,” Stan says. “Look, Jim, I can’t keep doing this--”

“You’ll do what you have to,” the other man snaps. “That was the deal you made with me and there’s no going back. It is what it is, so just live with it.”

John listens to the exchange with sharp ears. So Stan was in too much over his head and he and Nancy have a role in whatever it was the captain is up to. There doesn’t seem to be anyone else involved, so at least John can have peace of mind that they found everyone responsible.

The captain finally turns to look at John. “John Constantine is it?”

“It’s never a good thing when people know my name,” John mutters to himself. “Aye, that’s me. A formal introduction of yourself would be appreciated.”

“Captain Jim Wells,” the man says. “I’ve heard that you and your wife have been asking some questions. Funny, I didn’t know you were married.”

“Just married,” John says. “And from your words, it sounds like you’ve heard of me.”

“Your reputation precedes you,” Captain Wells says. “I’m sorry we couldn’t have met under better circumstances.”

“And what exactly are the circumstances?” Johns asks.

“You’ll know soon enough.”

John sucks his teeth with annoyance. He glances down at his shoe where his blade is still hidden, but knows it’s no use. He won’t be able to reach the knife without twisting himself in an unpleasant way. Not only would that draw attention, it would probably hurt. Maybe when he was younger he could manage to do it discreetly. But he’s not as spry or flexible as he used to be. He hears the sound of hurried footsteps and an out of breath Nancy comes into view. Her hair is disheveled and John can see the area around her eye is red.

“Where is she?” Stan asks with an angry bite to his voice.

“She got away!” Nancy says, panting heavily. “She punched me and took off.”

John smirks. God Lola becomes more attractive the longer he’s around her. He would have given anything to see her punch Nancy and then take off running in those heels...

“Shit!” Captain Wells swears. “We need to find her. Two are required for the offering and it has to be her.”

“Why?” John asks immediately. “Why does it have to be her?” The word ‘offering’ is disturbing enough as it is, but the fact that they need Lola raises a red flag for John. If they are sacrificing people to a demon or god of some kind, a sacrifice of a couple would be stronger than two random people. Their emotional connection is always a plus. John just needs to figure out which deity they are dealing with.

Captain Wells pulls out a cellphone and presses a few buttons before putting it to his ear. “Yes, it’s me,” he says. “There is a passenger who is MIA. Her husband is worried about her. Can you please be on the lookout for Lola Constantine? Her photo should be on her profile. Thank you.” He hangs up.

John makes a face, annoyed at being ignored once again. He opens his mouth, ready to shout for attention, when he sees something that makes him stop.

You catch his eye from across the deck as you swiftly peek over the edge of the deck. Scaling the side of the boat had been a last ditch effort to disappear from Nancy’s line of sight and it had worked. You had ditched your heels and were now clinging to the side of the boat, barefoot and freezing. It was probably one of the most terrifying things you’ve had to do, but you had no other choice. You knew she would go running to Stan the moment she lost sight of you. She did not disappoint. She has led you right to John.

John tries to hide his proud smile as he turns his attention back to his kidnappers, to avoid drawing attention to your direction. But they are busy arguing amongst themselves in low voices and your presence goes unnoticed. John makes a circle with his thumb and forefinger and at first you’re confused, until you remember his trinkets in your purse.

Looping one arm around the pole of the railing in front of you, you use your other hand to open the purse hanging around your neck. One of the trinkets is a circular stone and you take it out. You glance up at John and he closes his hand into a fist before pointing his thumb down. Drop it? Does he want you to drop it? He glances at you and at your quizzical look he gives a sharp nod.

You drop the stone into the darkness below. You barely can hear the splash but as soon as it hits the water, fog starts to billow up from the spot and soon the whole area surrounding the front of the boat is covered with it.

“Where is this coming from?” Captain Wells asks with annoyance. He, Nancy and Stan lean over their side of the boat to try to see through the fog.

While they are distracted, you take the chance to climb up onto the deck. There really aren’t many places for you to hide. You dive behind the deck’s bar just as the three turn back in your direction.

“I’m just curious to know what your plan is here,” John says loudly, catching their attention. “How long do you think you can keep this going? Sooner or later people are going to realize what’s going on.”

“People disappear all the time,” Captain Wells says. “A few calls about false sightings in various countries and that’s all you need to ease the suspicion.”

You creep forward behind the bar, trying to get John in your sights so you can see his bindings. Once you do, you can try to loosen them with magic. You’ve never done so without touching the subject before, but no time like the present try.

“Whatever demon you’re summoning, this can only end one way,” John says, baiting the man.

“Demons are petty and scum,” Captain Wells snarls almost immediately. It’s so easy to get prideful fucks to divulge information. You hold back a snort of laughter as he gives himself away.  

“So god then?” John asks in a bored tone, though you can see the vein in his neck twitch as he clenches his jaw. “You’re summoning a god. What for? Do you realize the consequences of your actions?”

You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up and suddenly you’re hit with a cold blast of air. The fog immediately starts to dissipate and you can hear water begin to slosh over the front of the boat. But it can’t be from the rocking of the ship. The ship is gliding smoothly through the water and isn’t anywhere close to being low enough for water to hit the deck. You duck further under the bar, blocking your view of the railing just as you hear a loud thump and the sound of something dragging across the deck.

“Glaucus, my lord!” the captain practically squeaks, giving the entity a low bow. You can’t see anything by John, and at this point you’re too terrified to move. John glances your way briefly before bowing his head slightly. Good. He wants you to stay put. That you can do. Demons and monsters sure, you can handle. You don’t know what to do with a water god.

“Why have you summoned me again?” the voice is deep and almost sounds like a drowning man. It makes you shudder and you find yourself torn between staying put like John wants you to and taking off in the opposite direction as fast as humanly possible. Instead, you focus your attention on John’s bindings and began to chant a soft incantation in your head.

“To request safe passage through your waters once more, oh great lord,” Captain Wells says, dropping to one knee. Nancy and Stan do the same, but they don’t appear as confident as he does. In fact, Stan looks like he’s ready to be sick and Nancy is deadly pale. This clearly has been done many times before, but you would never know by their expressions.

“You bring me but one offering?” the god questions. You can’t tell if he’s angry or not. He voice is devoid of emotion and you can’t see his face. You kind of don’t want to really.  

“Yeah, it’s just me, mate,” John speaks up. You can see he’s working his hands free as the bindings around his wrists loosen thanks to your spell.

“This will not do.” There is a slithering noise, almost like the god is moving back towards the railing.

“Wait! Please! We have a second offer!” Captain Wells babbles. “She just escaped us!”

“That’s because she’s bloody brilliant,” John says with a hint of pride in his voice. But his cockiness leaves him immediately as he addresses the god in front of him. “Oh great water god, Glaucus, forgive these mortals for disturbing your slumber.”

“Shut up!” Captain Wells snaps at John. “You don’t speak to him.”

“Do not presume you know who can and cannot speak to me,” Glaucus says, making Captain Wells shrink back in surprise. “Speak, John Constantine.”

“Oh good, you know me,” John says, breaking from the bindings and standing up. He moves to undo his bow tie and unbuttons his jacket. “Never been formally addressed by a god before. Kind of tickles me actually. I came to investigate why people on this vessel were disappearing. Now I know they were being sacrificed against their will to you, great Glaucus. I humbly ask that you return to the sea and I will personally make sure you are not summoned again.”

“And what of my offering?” Glaucus asks. “When I was summoned I was promised an offer.”

“Come on now, don’t be like that,” John says with his signature charming smile. “We can let this go peacefully, right?”

There is no response from the god at first. Until… “We are not alone here. Come out.”

You swear under your breath, steeling your nerves. It’s now or never so you square your shoulders, clench your jaw and stand. You turn to look at the god. He’s beautiful, in a terrifying way. He could almost be confused for a merman, if it wasn’t for his distorted features. It’s almost difficult to stare at him for too long and you can see why Nancy and Stan were so uncomfortable. His small, dark eyes feel like they are piercing right into your soul and you force yourself to stand your ground and not look away.

“My lord, she is the other offering,” Captain Wells says instantly. “Please accept our humble offer.”

“You piece of shit,” you say with a glare at the captain. John chokes back a chuckle. The humor in him leaves immediately however when Glaucus speaks again.

“I can take the offerings promised to me. Constantine, you and your wife have been forfeited to me.”

“Yeah, about that,” you say, taking a hesitant steps towards John. “See...I’m not really his wife.”

“Yes she is!” Nancy explodes suddenly. “She’s lying! They’re married! I’ve seen how they are around each other! It’s not an act!”

“You two have coupled,” the god says. “I can see his markings all over you.” Between your sweat and the sea water hitting you, your makeup is basically gone. “I can sense it.”

“Weird,” John mutters under his breath at the same time you say, “Gross.”

“You can’t lie to him,” Captain Wells says.

“Well, no one is saying we haven’t had sex,” you say with a shrug. “Doesn’t mean we have to be married. It’s 2017 for fuck’s sake.”

“Mighty, Glaucus, I beg of you to release us of the offering and return to the sea,” John says in a more forceful tone. “We do not consent and you should not have been disturbed in the first place.”

“Your words are honest, but hold no weight,” Glaucus says. “I can only follow the one who summoned me.”

Captain Wells pulls a chain out from under his shirt and you see he has a seashell pendant which is glowing. Something tells you that you won’t be able to get it from him with magic. The captain pulls the chain off his neck and holds it up towards Glaucus, who looks less than pleased about the whole situation. However, the captain just made your job a little easier.

“That’s right!” Wells says. “I hold the pendant. Oh great, Glaucus! I beseech you, again! Please accept my offer--OW!”

His words dissolve into a pain filled cry as you throw your knife directly at his hand, where it lodges right between his thumb and forefinger. The pain forces him to drop the pendant and John dives for it, catching it before it hits the ground.

Nancy and Stan try to run but you hold out your hand and the rope that bound John whips up to seize them and Wells, pulling them against the mast and binding them tightly against it. Like you’d let them get away after everything they did.

“Now then,” John says, straightening himself. “As I was saying.”

“I grow bored of your antics,” Glaucus snaps. “Return me to the sea with my offerings.”

“Yeah, I was one of those offers, so no,” John says. “Again, we do not consent. Return to the sea without an offer and I will guarantee you aren’t summoned again.”

“Consent is irrelevant,” The god asks, almost mockingly. “If an offer was promised, an offer must be paid.”

“Consent should never be irrelevant,” John says. “Are you a lowly demon who tries to force his will on others?”

Oh yeah John, goad the water god. Good fucking plan. Clearly it’s not going to work because Glaucus doesn’t take the bait. “Pay me my offer, John Constantine.”

John’s face suddenly hardens, regret flashing in his eyes briefly. It’s enough to put you on edge. “Well,” he says, forcing you to narrow your eyebrows suspiciously at him. He jerks his head in the direction of Nancy, Stan and Wells. “You can take all three of the ones who summoned you and we call it even. That way you know they won’t bother you again and I will take the pendant and lock it away. And hey, that’s one more than you were originally offered.”

That was certainly not what you had in mind. Sacrificing Nancy, Stan and Captain Wells to the water god was not on your list of things to do.

“John,” you say warningly, but your words are drowned out by the screams of the three that are bound at your mercy.

“No! Please no!”

“I beg of you!”

“This is an outrage!”

John glances over his shoulder at you. He heard you over their cries. Instead of saying anything however, he turns back to the god. “What do you say?”

The god looks between John and the three frightened people between you. Eventually his eyes slide up to meet yours and you feel a cool chill wash over you again.

“You do not agree with this offer.” It wasn’t a question. John turns to give you a look, but it’s your turn to ignore him.

You consider your response for a moment before finally saying, “It’s not up to me to agree.”

The god nods, as if your response is acceptable and finally he looks back at John. “I accept the offering. Do not summon me again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” John says.

It’s hard to take your eyes away as he slithers towards you but eventually it proves too much. You shut your eyes as he passes, his great, large frame brushing against your shoulder and making your skin explode with goosebumps. You turn away as Glaucus moves towards Nancy, Stan and Captain Wells. They start to scream, and you put your hands over your ears. You hum loudly to try to drown out the sounds.

It’s not until you feel a hand on your shoulder that you open your eyes again. You remove your hands from your ears and turn around to face John. The god, Nancy, Stan and the captain are gone. It’s only you two on the deck. He shoves the pendant into his pocket. You shrug John’s hand off your shoulder and without missing a beat, punch him right in the mouth.

He doesn’t even seem angry. In fact, the look he gives you as he wipes the trickle of blood off his lip tells you he expected it. “Took you long enough.”

You don’t even respond. Instead you turn your back on him, eager to be away from that area of the ship. Your steps are quick, but he still manages to keep up with you as you follow the deck towards the guest part of the ship.

“Lola, an offer had to be made,” John says.

“I know,” you say stiffly.

“You knew this was likely to happen,” John continues. “You know who I am. You know what I have to do. This is what you signed up for!”

You stop dead and round on him. “I didn’t sign up for anything,” you snap. “ _You_ found _me_. _You_ dragged _me_ into being bait. All I wanted to do was investigate. Yeah, I know a sacrifice needed to be made. But John, just because I knew it was a possibility, doesn’t mean I have to be automatically okay with it. It all happened in the span of five fucking minutes. I’m not a fucking robot! I can’t process all of that at once and be instantly okay with it!”

For once, he doesn’t have a snappy comeback. He stares at you with an unreadable expression, jaw tightly clenched.

“Let’s just get back to the room,” you say, allowing your voice to be filled with the exhaustion your body is feeling.

The walk back is silent.

Once inside the room, you sit down on your bed, facing the window as John moves around. You hear him collecting his belongings. You toss your purse back to him so he can take the rest of his trinkets from you. The boat will be docked in a few hours. He’s probably planning to disappear once he disembarks. That’ll leave you to spend the rest of the cruise, alone. And wonder if you will ever see him again.

You don’t look his way. Instead you draw your legs up against your chest, resting your chin on your knees.

The silence is filled with tension. Slowly you feel your anger fade. While you are mad you just sacrificed three people to a water god, you have to admit that they had it coming. Who knows how many people died at their hands? How many more would have been sacrificed. You don’t even know why they had done it. What had possessed them to go this far? Did it really even matter? It’s better this way. You know for sure they won’t hurt anyone else.

Once John is done packing, he pauses his movements as if he wants to say something. But then he doesn’t. You hear the door open and then close. You let out a shaky breath and turn around.

He’s gone.

You’re upset, but it’s for the best. Isn’t it? With everything that happens around him? All the people that get hurt? It’s best that he leave without a word. Leave you so that he can’t hurt you like he’s hurt everyone else.

No. No, it’s not the best.

Because you don’t want him to leave. You want to talk this out. You want him to stay with you. You want to offer him some reprieve from his decision. How many decisions has he had to make like this? How many times has he had to sacrifice someone for the good of everyone and then carry the burden alone as those around him left?

“Shit.”

You get up and hurry to the door, ready to chase after him. When you yank it open however, he’s still standing there, bag in one hand as he raises his other hand as if to knock. He looks at you with wide eyes, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Lola--”

“Just shut up and get in here.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He steps back into the room and tosses his bag on the floor. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a bruising kiss. His arms tighten around your waist as he crushes you to his chest, kissing you just as fiercely, teeth and tongue merciless against your mouth. You stumble back with the force of the assault, a moan making its way through the space between your lips.

Your head is spinning from lack of oxygen and you draw back with a gasp. He’s panting, lips turned up in a large smirk and eyes sparkling. “I _could_ use a break,” he says.

“Then shut the door and fuck me.”

John kicks the door so it slams shut before his hand slides into your hair and he pulls you towards him into another crushing kiss.


End file.
